Softly Comes Love
by Mellovesall
Summary: Olicity Historical/Regency AU: Sometimes the one person you could never, ever, see yourself loving is the one person you could never live without.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I recently had a mini-Jane Austen movie marathon and as usual I was left floating in romantic bliss. I have a great love for Romantic Historicals/Regency novels and this fic is dedicated to my many friends who love them too. If you missed my very first Olicity Historical AU that I wrote over Christmas, you can find it here on FF. It is called "Under A Winter Sky."

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1809 Derbyshire countryside, England

The first glimpse of Nocking Point vanquished Felicity's fears and bone-weary exhaustion, for just a brief moment, as the sunrise revealed the face of the great manor through the window of the traveling coach. The house was beautiful in its white stone splendor and size. Would she be accepted there?

Felicity had lost everything to a sudden and rampant wave of illness. Her journey had been long and full of the unknown. She was only a child of eleven years, but one who had felt the loss of many. After losing her mother when she was but six and then both parents to a desolating sickness not two months past; she was now being sent to live with people she had never met. Complete strangers, the family of her stepmother. She was to live off the charity of others. To live as the ward of the Earl and Countess of Starling.

She clasped her hands tightly in front of her as she was led into the family room by a servant to meet the people she would hopefully call her own.

She had only lived with her stepmother for one year, when her father had decided to remarry, and as she looked at the woman, who smiled gently at her from her chair by the fire, she could see the family resemblance. She owed this woman, with light blue eyes and honey, brown hair with strands of white, everything.

Felicity curtsied not knowing what was expected of her.

"Come here, child. I am Lady Starling and I have heard a great deal about you through my sister's letters. I miss her terribly and I am so pleased to have you here,"

Lady Starling took hold of her hands and her warmth spread all the way to Felicity's heart. She had to fight back the tears that formed from the relief of her welcome.

"Now, now, no tears. Let me introduce you to your new family. My husband, the Earl of Starling,"

"Welcome, child," said the tall, austere man whose no-nonsense voice befit the severity of his person. He was stern where his wife was genial.

"My sons, Oliver and Thomas," Lady Starling continued as she introduced the two boys standing quietly by their father. Oliver, whose intense and serious gaze made Felicity feel...disconcerted, was the oldest at the age of fourteen and the heir. Then there was Thomas, the youngest son, age twelve, with a smile that matched his mother's. Felicity could not help but smile back at him.

And so begun Felicity's life at Nocking Point. Lady Starling had welcomed her with open arms after only having been blessed with sons.

Over the years Felicity became a shadow that followed at the heels of the boys. Especially Thomas, Tommy to Felicity, in particular had become a fast friend. They were inseparable. He taught her to laugh again, climb trees and forgive the many slights Oliver made towards her over the years. The last of that list being the most difficult.

Oliver just did not like Felicity. Almost from the beginning there was just something about her...that did not suit him. It confused the heck out of an eleven year old girl and it continued to confuse the young woman she was growing into.

Oliver's company made her, uneasy. She never feared him, but every word or look he gave her made her feel inadequate and frustrated. What was wrong with laughing and enjoying life? When compared to Tommy's light and joy, Oliver's seriousness and constant corrections was a spray of salt over wounds. She never seemed to do anything right in his eyes. She didn't dress or act the way a young woman of society was supposed to. She giggled too loud or said the wrong thing. Felicity felt sorry for Oliver. He rarely smiled and even though he was always fair and kind to his family, Felicity just wasn't given that consideration. What had she ever done to him to cause such distance?

She knew she irritated him, but she just couldn't help it. With everyone else she was fine and sure footed, but with him...she was all limbs and a mess. One example, that she wished she could forget, was the day she had tagged along with Tommy to his favorite fishing spot. What she hadn't realized was that Oliver would be there too. He rarely joined Tommy in such pursuits and his grim look at first seeing her, did not help Felicity's discomfort.

"Must you always follow Thomas?" was all he had said to her for the first hour. As he and Tommy talked about mutual friends and the happenings of the neighboring village, Felicity tried to concentrate on catching something and ignoring being ignored. She would show him. And at that precise moment something pulled on her fishing rod.

She stood up and in her excitement exclaimed, "Look, Tommy! I have a fish,"

The fish tugged on her rod so furiously that she was pulled along the small wooden dock shoving Tommy out of the way, but knocking directly into Oliver causing him to fall into the pond.

"Oh, no," she moaned under her breath, as he surfaced sputtering and looking like he could kill her. She was so embarrassed, but ended up giggling as Tommy's laughter filled the air.

"You really should know better than to get in her way, Oliver," Tommy teased good naturedly as he and Felicity watched Oliver stomp out of the pond soaking wet and angry.

Years passed with similarly embarrassing moments with Oliver Jonas Queen until he was sent off to school in London. The day he departed was a complete relief to Felicity. She now had Tommy all to herself and she felt, free. Tommy had even given her a beautiful gray puppy from the litter they had watched born the night before Oliver had left for school. It was the only gray of the litter and Felicity called her, Artemis.

Artemis grew to be just as special to Felicity as Tommy had and her life was full of love and joy until…."he" came home.


	2. Chapter 2

January 1815, Nocking Point Manor

Lord Archer, Oliver to his family and eldest son to the Earl of Starling, was both excited and nervous to be back at Nocking Point as he dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to one of the awaiting footmen. His heavy cloak swayed in the gust of chilled air that whipped its way around his tall, powerful body and ruffled the cropped strands of his dark, blond hair as he took off his hat and dusted it against his legs.

There was no snow thank goodness, but the cold winds that swept down from the North reminded them all that it was winter. His black travel worn riding boots reflected the long journey he had had from university to countryside.

Oliver's lips curved into a smile, one that had stolen many a ladies' breath, as his piercing blue eyes studied the familiar facade of the manor house with its weathered stone and refined greek columns. It sat pristinely in the middle of a long expanse of rolling hills and manicured gardens with a sweeping stone gravel courtyard that led to its main entrance; all of it was...comforting. The memories the building pulled forth were a mixture of good, bad and many degrees in-between. It connected him to the land and its people. This was home. This was where he belonged.

His schooling at Eton followed by further education and polishing at Oxford had been a challenge that Oliver had excelled at, but the length of time he was away and the even rarer visits he had been allowed home had made him long to be with family. He missed Nocking Point. He missed his family. He even missed...Felicity. She would be shocked to know that, he was sure. They had never got on and he had to admit, in his youth, he had brought that darkness upon both of them. He had been jealous and yes, even envious of her instant connection to Thomas. He and his younger brother were close and to have a little girl, a stranger, become more important to his brother than he, had at first hurt Oliver very much.

Being the heir held many responsibilities and from the youngest of ages, Oliver had always been...set apart from his brother. They had been born to follow different paths and his father never let them forget it. Oliver's path would have been completely and utterly lonely and isolating if it had not been for Thomas. Oliver's mother loved him, he knew this, but she could never stand up against the firm line of his father's grooming of the next heir.

Hours of tutoring and training to run the estate had been pounded into Oliver when all he had wished for, was time to just be a boy. Time to just be with his brother. To fish and run amok amongst the estate and to even, just laugh...his father never permitted it. Maturity, reverence and responsibility was of utmost importance to the heir apparent.

So, when Felicity had interfered with the precious and limited time Oliver could have with his brother and to be a carefree child...Oliver had not been kind. Unfortunately, the damage was done and Oliver could never repair the pain and offense he had caused the innocent young girl who had come to his home a stranger and stayed to become...more. He wished he could take back his appalling behavior, but she had long ago written him off as a person she did not wish to extend friendship to.

"Hello, Landon," Oliver said in greeting to the butler whose family had served his for many years.

"My lord, 'tis good to have you home," Landon knew everything that happened on the estate and had always held a special place in his heart for the children of the manor, but especially so for the quiet and reserved, yet gentle master Oliver.

A low, gruff bark was the only warning Oliver had before a blur of gray sprinted between his legs and then a warm, soft body pummeled into his arms.

"Ooof," Oliver muttered, as he reached out to stop the person from falling. The fresh scent of honeysuckle, delicate and inviting, floated around him and the silky locks of long, loose hair flowed over his hands as he set the woman back on her feet.

"Oliver!"

Who? My god, she was breathtaking. Sapphire blue eyes framed by thick lashes blinked up at him, with surprise then exasperation, through a set of unique gold rim spectacles. A soft blush of pink highlighted her flawless complexion and a lush, edible mouth drew his eye. Waves of golden hair fell down the sides of her slim body that was wrapped in an emerald green velvet day dress.

"I see that your manners have improved," the young woman said sarcastically as she waited for him to greet her. His confused and stunned silence seemed to annoy her because she rolled her eyes and turned back towards the front entrance doors she had flown out of.

"Artemis! Come!" she commanded the wayward dog that now trotted back to its master as if he had not done anything wrong and insolently brushed the side of Oliver's boots.

"Felicity?" Oliver whispered in disbelief as he tried to reconcile the beauty that disappeared back into the house with the memory of braids and bony, uncoordinated limbs.

"Yes, sire, that was Miss Felicity," Landon said, as Oliver continued to stare after her and her dog. Oliver had been gone a long time, and at the urging of his father had not come home for too many holidays in order to expedite his schooling. It had been hard on Oliver, but his obligations to tradition and his father's expectations had forced him to grow up and put such feelings at bay.

It was very apparent that he was not the only one who had grown up. Felicity had as well and incredibly so, into a beautiful young woman.


	3. Chapter 3

Her face was flushed and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that surely, surely everyone must hear it. Felicity inhaled deeply to calm herself before walking over to one of the house maids, who was in the foyer of the grand entrance, to request she inform Lady Starling that Lord Archer had arrived.

Lord Archer...Oliver.

He had said, not a word to her.

Felicity walked up the staircase and down the marble hall, that was aglow with sunshine that filtered through the bank of windows and french doors that faced the maze of the west gardens, to the sanctuary of her room. Artemis nudged her legs and whimpered as she sensed something was not right and watched her master sit down on the edge of the bed. The warmth from the lit fireplace kept Felicity's bedroom and her bed's sliver blue duvet cover warm to the touch, but she did not notice.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Felicity said, as she reached out to stroke the dog's gray fur trying to convince her and herself that the brief encounter with Oliver did not mean anything to her.

That she was only out of sorts because she had not expected to run into...literally, anyone...and most certainly not, Oliver, her childhood nemesis. She knew he was due to return this week, but he was...different and yet...the same, as the image of the very adult male he had become came back to her. The explicit memory of the sculpted hardness of his body against hers and the surprising gentleness of his touch...it confused her. His blue eyes, that had always seemed to see everything, but rarely shared anything was still so.

She had hoped things would change between them after his absence, but this...her visceral reaction to him was new, it was different...it was scary. Why did he always, always confuse her?

He had not said a word to her. After all this time...it still, hurt...a little.

Why should she care? Felicity scolded herself. It had always been this way. They did not easily converse or laugh together or share moments as close friends ought...any more than society dictated. And as they had grown older and Felicity grew accustomed to their practically separate lives within the manor, Oliver was rarely in her company other than family gatherings; by his choice she had always assumed.

Tommy was her constant. They grew up together, sharing tutors and classrooms, even becoming each other's partner during dance lessons. She smiled as she thought of her dearest friend.

She would not permit Oliver to make her uncomfortable. She was a woman now, not a child who allowed words or the lack of them...to upset her. She would show Oliver the respect granted his status in her family, but nothing more.

A knock on her door brought her out of her musings and her personal maid, Lizzie, poked her head in the room and said, "Miss Felicity, Lady Starling requests your presence in the family room,"

####

"Oliver! Brother, it is good to see you," Thomas said in greeting, as Oliver secured the last button of his waistcoat and turned from the looking glass to be engulfed in a huge hug. His bath and change into clean clothes had stripped the travel fatigue away and he now looked forward to time with his family.

Oliver couldn't believe the man standing before him was his little brother. Thomas was just as tall, perhaps even an inch taller and as virile as Oliver was. Both brother's having been tutored in the arts of fencing, boxing and riding led them to very active lives and their bodies reflected it.

Thomas had grown up and with that came the news of his want to enter the military. Thomas had first shared his plans to join Wellington's army in a letter to Oliver months before. Oliver's first thought had been to protect him by attempting to talk him out of his service, but Oliver understood his brother's need to become his own person; away from their father and Oliver. To distinguish himself and to protect their country. If Oliver was not the next in line to the earldom he would have chosen to serve his country as well.

"You look well, Thomas. Mother has filled me in on the celebratory ball she's hosting for your recent commission into the Dragoon Guards. Acceptance into the Guard is a great honor. I'm proud of you,"

"Thank you, that means a great deal to me especially coming from you. And do not remind me. I, for one, am not looking forward to all the excessive fawning over by the local matchmaking mothers. Beware my dear brother. As the returning heir, you will be the main attraction,"

"Joy. Let us go downstairs before mother has our heads,"

####

Felicity could hear happy voices as she approached the family room and as she entered she spotted Tommy standing with Oliver by the fireplace and their mother and father sitting in nearby chairs.

Tea service was being brought it and set down in front of Lady Starling.

"Felicity, dearest. Oliver is home," Lady Starling said excitedly as she smiled at Felicity.

Oliver turned and bowed as Felicity curtsied. She had to admit, the brothers were quite something to look upon. Tall, athletic and in their prime. They inherited their father's height and their mother's blue eyes. Tommy, as always, had a quick smile to share and a vibrant energy that when standing next to Oliver's calm, controlled presence, was even more pronounced.

Remember, you're a woman, Felicity.

"Welcome home, Oliver. It has been some time. I, almost, did not recognize you," Felicity said, with her tongue firmly planted in her cheek.

If Felicity had not been watching Oliver so closely she would have missed the flash of surprise and something else...that must have been a trick of the light, because Oliver did not have a funny bone in his body. But she swore she saw a glint of humor before he shut out the world with a blink.

He started to reply, but then Lady Starling interjected with, "Quite true, Felicity. My sons have grown into very handsome and kind men."

"I think you meant to say, that your youngest son was by far, the, most handsome and kindest, mother," Tommy said with a wide smile as he patted Oliver on the back then walked towards his mother and kissed her cheek.

"I have no favorites, Thomas, but I must admit to a fondness when showered with attention,"

"Hmm, enough idle time. After dinner Oliver, we review pending business," his father directed as he stood up, terminating the conversation, and held his arm out for his wife to take and escorted her to dinner.

There was a brief hesitation by everyone left in the room before Oliver stepped forward and held his folded arm out to Felicity.

She quickly glanced at Tommy and he had the audacity to wink at her. Tommy, her dearest friend, winked at her.

"Thank you," she said softly as she placed her hand on Oliver's arm. He was the heir and it was his duty to escort Felicity into dinner, but she didn't have to look at him. She didn't have to acknowledge the strength she felt beneath her fingers nor the shock, like a lightning bolt, that coursed through her body, through the layers of clothing and her gloves, at their touch.

####

Oliver's entire body was alive with sensations that he knew he really, really should not be feeling. Good lord, Felicity had simply put her hand on his arm. He was just tired and she was a beautiful woman and that was the end of that. Yes, that would be the end of that.

He wanted to apologize for his behavior at their earlier meeting, but once they arrived in the dining room Felicity politely excused herself and made her way across the great room to talk with Thomas. A familiar twinge of sadness hit Oliver as it always did when he was around the two of them. It was as if, he was not there. He could see that some things had not changed.

Oliver was quiet by nature and the dinner conversation drifted around him without his feeling the need to interrupt. He was at peace. This was his family and it was good to be home.

His parents sat at opposite ends of the dining table with Felicity and Thomas on one side seated across from him. He still could not believe how much Felicity had grown up as she talked animatedly and at ease with everyone, except him. The candlelight reflected off her spectacles and glints of gold in her hair. When had she come to need the spectacles? She had always had a keen eye as a child.

But she was no longer a child was she.

The emotion in her voice cut through his thoughts as he heard her say, "Tommy, I do wish you had not joined the military. Parish life could have been just as fulfilling,"

"Felicity, you know it is the right thing for me to do. And could you really see me entering the Church?"

"Thomas, will be a true asset to the mounted brigade," Oliver added with the conviction of a man who knew how well his brother commanded horse flesh. Their father had made sure both sons knew how to handle the large animals.

"You were not here when Tommy took a fall off the stallion, Oliver. You don't know how much effort it took him to ride again,"

Oliver was stunned by the information and by Felicity's vehemence. He knew she was worried about Thomas going off to war, but her protectiveness spoke of a childhood friendship that had deepened into something much more. He could see it in the way she looked at Thomas. The thought made Oliver feel even more isolated from what the two shared.

And why the hell hadn't anyone told him about Thomas' fall?

"It was nothing, Oliver. The stallion was startled by something while we were on a ride. That was all," Tommy replied attempting to reassure him.

"A broken arm is not nothing," Felicity said as her eyes expressed how much that memory still upset her.

"I decided it was for the best that we not distract you at school with the news, Oliver," his Father finally added, while he continued to eat as if any harm to his brother meant "nothing" to Oliver.

Anger swelled in Oliver at the hardness and yes, callousness of the man. He swore if he ever had children of his own he would never, ever be like his father.


	4. Chapter 4

Below Oliver's legs, the sleek, powerful muscles of his horse moved in fluid motion as they sped across the hills. The speed of their animals and the chill of the early morning air invigorated Oliver as he raced Thomas to the massive oak tree that was older than them both and stood as a lone sentry upon a hilltop that overlooked Nocking Point. They slowed to a trot and the horses snickered their assent. Oliver was pleased to see Thomas had no lingering fears of being back on his stallion. He felt better knowing this as he prepared to see his brother off to war.

As their mounts rested and grazed, on what they could find on the dry winter ground, the brothers took in the horizon of their home.

"I missed this," Oliver said after long moments of comfortable silence.

"I'm sure just as much as I will when I leave,"

"You will write to me, Thomas. Your letters and mothers, they kept me sane while I was away at school. I will make sure to do the same for you,"

Thomas met Oliver's steady gaze, the gravity of where he was going and what he would be a part of settled in the air around them, and with a firm nod he replied, "I'm counting on it,"

####

"Artemis, what do you think? Ah, well, I shall have to do, won't I," Felicity rambled on not really expecting a response from her beloved friend, who was lazily sprawled across a favorite rug on her bedroom floor, as Felicity looked herself over in the mirror.

Lizzie had fashioned Felicity's long blonde hair into a simple knot at the base of her neck with small tendrils loose and curled around her face. The classic white dress she wore, with short puffy sleeves and embroidered flowers all along the wide square neckline, was beautiful and she greatly appreciated Lady Starling's generosity in having it specially made for her to wear to Tommy's party, but...she detested balls and dressing up. Quite frankly anything that brought attention to herself was painful. She felt most comfortable in a pair of scandalous britches riding across the countryside with Tommy. To feel the wind in her hair and the freedom of speed and movement. Sitting pretty and waiting to be asked to dance just wasn't her cup of tea.

She smiled at the thought of Tommy. He meant the entire world to her and she shivered with fear at the thought of his going into military service. So many things could go wrong. What if he was hurt in some way? She shook her head to shake the negative thoughts away. He was leaving to report to his regiment in the morning and she was determined that his last evening at home would be full of happy memories he could take with him.

####

Music from the orchestra greeted Felicity as she walked into the manor's ballroom. Two large crystal chandeliers gently reflected candlelight throughout the room that was full of peers, a few dignitaries and village families who appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Large bouquets of peonies and seasonal flowers from the manor's hot house were placed throughout the great hall. Dancing had started and couples graciously moved across the dance floor in a cotillion.

Felicity spotted Tommy, handsome in his red Dragoon uniform, at the far end of the room surrounded by a small crowd of people who included Oliver.

Oliver, her body instantly bristled at seeing him. His cravat, snowy white against his otherwise black evening attire, was perfectly tied, so much so that Felicity had the sudden unexplainable urge to pull it loose. His coat fit his tall, masculine figure impeccably and his chiseled jaw and vibrant blue eyes completed the very appealing look of the heir of Starling.

She felt mildly guilty at her chastisement of him at dinner the evening before. She had not known that his father had directed he not be informed of Tommy's accident. Felicity had been upset that no word had come from him when the accident had happened, but she had just assumed it was another example of Oliver's insensitivity.

The Earl of Starling was a very, hard man. He had left the raising of Felicity to the Countess and her staff and Felicity had always been grateful for that. He was in no way physically cruel to her, but he could be harsh and never, ever warm.

"Miss Felicity?"

"Yes, oh good evening, Lady Barton," Felicity said after turning to greet the older peer of Lady Starling's. Lady Barton was always gracious to attend events at Nocking Point and Felicity liked her. She had no children of her own except for distant nieces and nephews and social events like tonight kept her young at heart.

"Miss Felicity, may I introduce you to my nephew and niece, Mr. Crawford and his sister, Miss Crawford,"

Everyone bowed and curtsied and as Felicity stood back up, Mr. Crawford caught her eye, smiled and said, "It is our great pleasure,"

Mr. Crawford was tall and pleasant looking, but there was just something about him...maybe the fact that his smile did not reach his eyes, kept Felicity from completely feeling at ease with him. His sister, Miss Crawford, gave off a similar cool demeanor as she looked over Felicity's unique spectacles and dress in a slow perusal that perhaps found her….lacking. Goodness, it was hard to believe these people were related to the kind and amiable Lady Barton.

####

Oliver tuned out the presence of the rest of the people that milled around him. They said their greetings and well wishes for Thomas' tour of duty as Oliver watched Felicity from across the room. He was very aware of her when she was anywhere near and it irritated him. Why he sensed her moments after she joined the party was beyond him, but he did. He never had this "awareness" of any other women and it was bothersome. Especially since the woman in question didn't even like him.

Felicity was a vision in delicate white and her hair up in the latest fashion. She was lovely, but he missed her hair down and flowing freely around her person. He rubbed his fingers together as he remembered the silky texture of it.

An older woman walked over to Felicity and was introducing a man and woman to her and Oliver's face drained of all color.

The immediate urgency to keep Felicity safe, turned into intense, barely controlled, rage.

Henry Crawford was, here, at Nocking Point and he was talking with Felicity. Oliver needed to get her away from the man...now.

Oliver knew of Crawford's reputation at Oxford. He had graduated two years ahead of Oliver and the rumors that followed were deplorable. Oliver had never witnessed anything firsthand, but people he had respect for, spoke of the man's dark legacy of inflicting pain and humiliation upon women. Women who frequented the local taverns and worked on their backs for their living. No matter their status in life no one had the right to be abusive towards another human being.

Atrocities against women were a blight within the society in which they lived. It was never spoken of and both, privilege and the lack of it, bred it against those with no recourse. The unforgivable sin would not find a home, anywhere, in which Oliver had any control.

He swallowed the bile that arose as he watched this, animal, smile and talk with Felicity. As he watched this animal defile his home with his presence.


	5. Chapter 5

Fury, revulsion and dread drove Oliver across the crowded ballroom.

The world slowed till everything moved in the slowest of movements as he rushed towards Felicity. He did not feel the bodies he brushed by or the inquisitive stares that followed in his wake.

All he saw, was a red haze as he heard Crawford ask Felicity to dance. He watched in alarm as the "man" held his hand out to her. He dared to touch her, an innocent who was unaware of the ugliness that could live in the hearts of men.

"Forgive me, Felicity. I am late for the dance you saved for me," Oliver said as he came to stand between them.

Crawford and Felicity took a step back as Oliver's presence took them by surprise.

"Archer," Crawford said with a small smirk, knowing and sardonic, playing across his lips as he acknowledged Oliver.

"Crawford. We shall speak when the dance is over," Oliver said with barely hidden distaste.

"As you wish. Miss Felicity," Crawford replied nonchalantly before he bowed to Felicity then walked away to rejoin his aunt and sister, but not without a last flick of a glance towards Oliver.

####

Felicity found the exchange baffling and rude beyond the norm. How could Oliver behave this way? To interrupt her conversation with Mr. Crawford, lie about a saved dance and then dispatch the man with such an air of hostility.

"Felicity," Oliver said as he turned to face a very upset and reluctant dance partner. He held his hand out for her to take. The beautiful blue eyes that looked up at his were ablaze with anger. She didn't immediately take his hand and for a second he thought she would not.

But, she did.

Felicity could not believe the disrespect Oliver had just shown his guest. Her anger was overflowing as he led her to the dance floor and to an unexpected and unwelcome waltz. He held her gloved hand, turned and pulled her towards his body. She refused to look up at him and stubbornly stared at the broad expanse of his chest, that rose and fell under his tailored jacket, and the layered folds of his perfect cravat.

Her emotions were all over the place. She was aggravated, appalled and reacting to the nearness of him. He placed his other hand at the small of her back, in a proper and elegant hold, then took the lead into the sweeping notes of the music.

She could feel the heat from his body and hers was already...on fire. Beneath the anger they were both feeling, was an undercurrent. A primitive and acute awareness of each other; their breaths, a touch, virile strength and lithe softness.

"I forbid you to talk to or go anywhere near that man,"

Oliver knew the moment his words were spoken that they were the absolute wrong ones to have used. His anger towards Crawford and his fear for her were completely driving his actions. He was running on pure instinct and she made him feel…too much. He swept her into one turn after another as he tried to think how to repair the damage he caused. She trembled in his arms and all he wanted was to comfort and keep her safe.

"You 'forbid' me," Felicity replied astonished and taken aback at being commanded to do anything, and in such a manner, by Oliver Queen.

"First of all, Oliver. You are not my parent and secondly, your behavior is appalling. Not only do you owe our guest an apology, but...you owe one to me as well,"

He could not and would not voice the evils of the man. The abuses and the crimes. Not to her. He would not bring them anywhere near her. She would not learn of the darkness of the world from Oliver.

"Just,...listen to me about this Felicity. The man is not fit to be in society,"

Oliver infuriated her and her reaction to him was volatile and heated. Why was he like this? Always. Always.

"What has Mr. Crawford done but politely ask me to dance, Oliver? Goodness, I have known his aunt for most of my adult life. Are you so very intent on spoiling any enjoyment in the world? All possible joy? You are just like your father,"

He reacted to her last words as if she had slapped him. His body stiffened under her hands and his eyes turned...cold. The fire of a few moments ago extinguished. What had she done?

"I am sor…" she started to apologize, but he cut her off.

"In all ways that matter to me, I am nothing like my father...If you will not do this because I ask it, then I implore you, on your love for Thomas, stay away from Henry Crawford," the music stopped and Oliver no longer looked her in the eye. Not once as he escorted her off the dance floor and safety to his mother.

"Please excuse me, Mother. Felicity," he said as he left her standing by his mother and walked off.

She knew she had hurt him with her reference to his father. She had lashed out at him with her anger. She detested how he made her feel and act. They were water and oil. They would never mix and get on. She did not like how she was around him. She was horrid to him and that was not who she was. She was not this person.

She swore to herself, that after Tommy left, she would stay as far away from Oliver as possible. She did not want the toxicity they brought out in each other to fester and after what she said to him, she was positive he would want the expanse of the Atlantic ocean between them as well.

####

Oliver, hurt. She had said the one thing that he had always feared. He never, ever wanted to be like his father. Responsibility to his family was the only trait of his father's he would ever proudly avow.

He spotted Crawford at the edge of the ballroom sipping on a cup of punch like he had not a care in the world. Oliver pushed the ache in his chest down and far, far away. He had business to attend to.

"Follow me," Oliver directed as he walked past the man, not even looking back to make sure he followed. He knew he would, after all the man was a predator always looking for some form of prey to toy with.

Oliver waited as Crawford walked through the door of his father's library and closed it behind him.

"I know what you are Crawford,"

"And what is that, Archer?"

"You are inhuman. I know what you did to those women when you were at Oxford and I won't allow you anywhere near my family or my guests. You will make up, some excuse, that will take you and your family home, immediately. Because your aunt is a friend of my mother, you will not make a scene or cause any embarrassment to anyone. You are never welcome in my home. I will make sure that anywhere my family name has any clout, you, will not be deemed entry. Do we understand each other?"

Moments passed. Long moments. Oliver watched Crawford calculate and weigh what he would lose going against the heir apparent to the family Starling and the man's cowardice won.

"Understood,"

Oliver watched, from the main entrance of the manor, till Crawford's carriage disappeared from sight and then released the breath he was holding. Everyone was safe from the deplorable man and Thomas' night was left pleasant and joyful.

He thoughts returned to Felicity and with that, came back the deep ache in his chest. He did what he thought had been best. He may not have done it in the finest of manner, but he had kept that monster away from her. She was angry at him and that was probably for the best. They could not seem to get past the...remnants of their past. He would not cause her any more discomfort. He would need to leave her be.

The night was clear and the stars blinked brightly overhead. He would seek the solace he always found in his own solitude as he walked away from the Manor and into the night.

####

"Felicity, you are pale, are you well?" Tommy quietly whispered, as he came to stand beside her as she watched the dancers move across the floor.

"Yes. Yes, I am well, Tommy," Felicity said with a forced smile that slowly became a real one as he smiled back at her. His beloved face that made all the ugliness she was feeling disappear.

Lady Barton and the Crawford's had left not long after Oliver had walked away from Felicity and she knew he had something to do with their departure. She would never understand him.

What she could understand though, was that she did not want to be angry anymore and she did not want to hurt anyone.

"Shall we dance then?" Tommy asked as if he knew he was her lifeline away from memories of Oliver.

"Yes, let us dance,"

####

Oliver only returned to the ballroom as the Earl of Starling thanked everyone for attending and made a toast to Tommy on his safe return. Felicity could feel Oliver's presence in the room, but she only had eyes for Tommy. She took all the smiles, joy and happiness he shared with her and carefully stored them in her heart till his return.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello, my friends. I'm sorry for the delay in posting for this story. Real life has been full of family concerns. Thank you for your patience and sweet notes asking about this next chapter. I found I needed to push up historical events to fit my plot. I do apologize to those of you who like to have accurate and precise historical dates and times. Waterloo took place in June of 1815, not that Spring. I hope you can forgive me since this is an AU.

####

Felicity re-folded Tommy's letter, the paper gently worn from its journey to her, then placed it into her keepsake box. She slid her fingers lovingly across the lid of the lacquered rosewood box, a gift from the family on her thirteenth birthday, that held so many of her favorite tokens.

Every few weeks, three letters would arrive at the addressed to Lady Starling, Felicity and on those days, the sun shone a bit brighter and life was a bit happier for Felicity.

She pulled a blank sheet of paper from a drawer and placed it on her desktop. As she reached for her quill she looked out her window and took in the beauty of the day. It was hard to believe Spring was in full bloom.

Tommy had been gone for over three months. Months that encompassed intensive training with his horse battalion and the horrific news of Napoleon Bonaparte's escape, from the island of Elba and his retaking of France, that plunged Britain and her coalition forces back into the dark days of war.

A familiar horse and rider flew across the East hill and Felicity could not help but think of the irony...that as tensions and strife rose across Europe, her "war" with Oliver had come to an acceptable impasse. Over the last few months they had come to an understanding of sorts. Cordial cohabitation was possible with the smallest of conversation and even less, proximity.

Since the night of Tommy's ball, Oliver had given her much needed space. The anger and yes, the injury to both of them, of how they had behaved towards each other had been locked away into a distant memory. The ugliness of it could still be felt, if she dared to unlock it, but even when she was tempted to think back on those moments, needles of pain could be felt around her soul and she would run from it. She was safe from conflicting and volatile feelings, if she held Oliver at a distance. She had to keep him at a distance.

During the day they both kept busy. Oliver with his father, estate business and property projects, like the reinforcement of the nearby dam that fed the Starling lands and nearby town, and Felicity with her duties as a companion to Lady Starling and their visitation of neighbors and tenants. Dinner was the one event of every day that they could not avoid interacting though.

Thankfully, one subject of dinner conversation that Oliver and Felicity could find common ground over was Tommy. She missed her friend and she worried for him. So many brave men were now attempting to stop the spread of Napoleon's thirst for power and she kept them all in her nightly prayers.

Oliver and the Earl kept them informed of the news from the warfront and London. Both had friends in the military and in the Earl's case, Parliament.

#####

Oliver stretched the aching muscles of his back as he walked his horse into the patted the side of his favorite horse as the stable hands led her to her stall.

A hard day's work was satisfying in many ways. He enjoyed working outdoors and with his hands. The dam project, that included many men from town and farms that benefited from the maintained river, was going slowly, but season was not far off and the old dam walls needed some care. Oliver also had to admit to himself that it allowed him time away from his overbearing father and took his mind off many things...two things in particular, his concerns for Tommy and his avoidance of Felicity.

War was declared not long after Thomas had joined the Dragoons and not a day went by that Oliver's thoughts did not dwell on him.

Constant concern for Thomas was just as all-encompassing as Oliver's awareness of Felicity. She seemed to be more at ease with him in the hour or so of dinner and pre-dinner socializing his mother enjoyed.

They did not gripe at each other, but there was still a powerful current of uncomfortableness... at least for him. Dinner had become a time of day that he both craved and dreaded. It was like an unwanted addiction and Felicity, she was his vice. Her voice, her words, her opinions and ideas, they flowed over him and everywhere they touched; they awakened so many...things. Dreams and...wants. He tried to ignore what she made him feel, but he just could not.

The tentative "peace" they had found in each other's company was a double edged sword and he had to learn to make into a single, dull one. He knew Felicity did not care for him and he also knew that she cared for Thomas with all her heart. Their conversations about him and the war, heralded it. Oliver would not hurt her in any way with his presence and certainly not with his growing feelings.

Thundering hoof beats signaled an approaching visitor and Oliver walked out of the stables to see about the unexpected visit.

A rider, haggard and filthy from the dust of travel, rode into the courtyard and jumped off his stead as he all but ran to the front entrance of the manor. What was this?

Oliver rushed into the house in time to see the messenger received by his father and escorted into the library. A heavy sense of trepidation almost prevented Oliver from walking towards the library door, but he had to know the reason for the urgent message. Oliver only heard silence as he knocked on the door and then...no answer. He knocked again and when he could no longer stand the lack of response….he opened it to see his father staring out the french doors, his back stiff and rigid, and a letter in his hand.

The messenger would not look at Oliver and with a mumbled apology, left the room.

"Father? What is it?"

"Send for your mother and Felicity," was all his father said after agonizing moments of silence.

"But,"

"Now! Oliver," his father commanded, still not turning to face him.

#####

Felicity quickly made her way down the hall to the library. Her buttercup yellow day dress swirling around her legs as she rushed downstairs. All Lizzie could say was that the Earl had summoned her and that it was urgent business. What could be wrong?

As Felicity rounded the corner, the library door was ajar and a horrible, horrible wail of pain, so agonizing and so full of despair, rang out. It was the Countess and Felicity's heart raced out of her chest. What was happening?

Felicity pushed the door completely open and what she saw and heard would be forever etched in her soul.

The look of complete and utter devastation in Oliver's eyes as he held his mother in his arms. The Countess' laxed and heavy body, weighing him down, so that he collapsed onto his knees with her protected in his embrace and the Earl of Starling turning from the window to say, "Thomas is dead,"


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver stood looking through the balcony doors of his mother's bedchamber. The shapes and shadows before him, no longer making any sense as the last of the early morning fog eased over the land. The clouds lingered making everything gray and dark. He unconsciously tightened his hold on the door frame as he blinked and the salt of his unshed tears, burned. He savored the burn because it was the only thing other than emptiness, he'd felt in hours. It had been his constant from the moment his father had spoken. From the moment Thomas was taken from him. Taken from them all.

Oppressive silence surrounded him. The servants in shock along with the rest of the family. The house, quiet after hours of only pain.

There was no movement or sound from the two women behind him. His mother finally falling into an exhausted sleep after crying most of the night and Felicity, beautifully strong Felicity, whom he didn't know what he would have done without, slept in the chair she'd pulled close to his mother's bedside. Oliver didn't know if he would have survived the horror of the last 12 hours without her. Her eyes had been a reflection of all their grief. Bruised liquid of the darkest blue, but her priority had been his mother. Felicity had fought back her own grief to help him take care of her as she had collapsed at her husband's words. Words brought to them by special carrier and the grace of friends in high places. Thomas had distinguished himself in battle. He had died saving others.

His father, the Earl, had stood frozen in the library as Oliver helped his mother from the room and Oliver had not seen nor heard from him since. His father's absence did not surprise him and that was what was the saddest part.

Was life supposed to continue? Were birds allowed to sing, flowers allowed to bloom and food still prepared? Shouldn't the world have stopped from the loss of his brother? Why was his heart still beating when it was full of such agony?

He turned as he heard Felicity stir. Her sleeping form disturbed by unwelcome nightmares.

If Oliver was hurting this badly...how would Felicity survive it? How could she bear it? At the thought of the magnitude of her heartbreak, his breath caught and his chest tightened. Oliver didn't know how he could help her. How could he help his mother...or even help himself, when all he wanted to do was...disappear?

A soft knock on the door came before Landon caught Oliver's eye from the doorway and signaled for his presence in the hall. Oliver glanced at the two women, who meant the most to him in the entire world, to make sure they still rested before walking out the door and closing it quietly.

"My apologies for the interruption, Master Oliver, but these arrived this morning," Landon said as he reverently handed Oliver three letters. They shook slightly in the old man's hand as Oliver tried to understand what he was looking at. He could only stare at the familiar scrawl across the parchment as his heart, bled.

"Master, Oliver?"

"Yes, thank you, Landon. Can you please listen for my mother or Miss Felicity as I take some time," Oliver asked as he took the letters and walked away not waiting for an answer. Landon watched as his master disappeared into the upstairs solarium and the click of the closing door echoed through a house in full mourning.

The splash of peacock blue and green pillows and bright colored decor of the sunroom did not register as Oliver collapsed into the chair closest to the fireplace. Its heat never reaching him. Minutes passed as the crackling of the small fire was not heard and he stared at the letters in his hand. Felicity's name upon the first one, finally brought a lone tear from him. His concern for her heightening his own pain to new levels.

Memories of Thomas and Felicity, their shared smiles and laughter, together over the years weighed him down as he sifted through the envelopes before reaching the one addressed to him.

He set the other two on the chair beside him as he opened what was the last thing Thomas would share with him.

 _ **Waterloo April 1815**_

 _ **Oliver, I find myself at the eve battle and all I wish is to be home, with you, mother, father and Felicity. Warm food and laughter surrounding me.**_

Oliver could only smile sadly at those words.

 _ **I know I am here for a reason. We hunt for Napoleon tomorrow and God willing, find the man and stop the madness of this war.**_

 _ **I do not know if I will survive the coming days, Oliver. I cannot admit this fear out loud, but I know I can..with you. You have never judged me. You have only loved me and I want you to know, my brother, that I love you and I wish you happy.**_

 _ **As I wonder if I will ever find mine, I want you to reach for your happiness, Oliver. Reach for what has always been within your grasp. Take that step and tell her what she truly means to you. Yes, I have always known you care for her. For our dearest Felicity. Just like her name, she is Joy.**_

 _ **She is and always will be my sister. Never a day has passed where she has ever meant more to me. I only have ever loved her as my dear friend. Please know this.**_

 _ **I hope that I will be home soon so you can admonish me in person for what I am telling you now. But I feel that you are now ready to face what you've always hidden from her. Hidden from...yourself.**_

 _ **Embrace our mother and father for me.**_

 _ **Thomas**_

####

Sadness, confusion and then surprise and denial coursed through Oliver's mind.

"Thomas, don't leave me here without you," Oliver whispered into the nothingness.

####

A familiar sensation of a wet tongue licking across her ankle brought Felicity awake soon after Oliver had returned to his mother's bedchamber and allowed Artemis into the room. Felicity instinctively reached for the softness of Artemis before she remembered…before she fully remembered what had happened. Tommy.

A groan of pain, so intense it was beyond physical, forcibly escaped from her throat before she could stop it. Her pain spilling out before she could contain it.

"Sshh, Felicity," was whispered to her as strong, warm fingers engulfed her hand where it clenched at the sides of the armchair. The contact startling not just because it was skin to skin, but from the warmth against the ice of her heart.

She struggled to open her heavy eyes to see Oliver kneeling down by her chair with a look of concern and shared understanding. Artemis wiggling against his arm as she laid her head on Felicity's lap, whining her confusion and worry.

Felicity reached out to pet Artemis' head to ease her. Her fingers quickly digging into the beloved fur trying to keep a grasp on what life was before….when life was happy and her heart wasn't broken. A life, that was full of sunshine and a man who was so very special. A life with Tommy in it.

"I thought you might need her,"

"...Thank you," Felicity whispered back as she finally met Oliver's eyes and tried not to cry. His thoughtfulness pushing her already fragile emotions over the edge. Oliver was as broken as she was and she was suffocating. She wanted to comfort him, but she had nothing to give. All the pain that was crashing down on her. It hurt. She hurt.

She couldn't deal with it all. It was paralyzing. She needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I need…" was all Felicity could say as she stood up attempting to leave, to run from her pain, before her unsteady legs gave out and Oliver caught her.

"It's okay. I have you," Oliver said as he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the room. She wanted to bury her head against his chest, into his warmth and innate strength and away from the world. Away from the loss of Tommy, but that wasn't what they did. That wasn't who they were to each other.

Oliver gathered her closer, as if he heard her thoughts, as he made his way down the hall to her room. The enticing scent of leather, fresh pine and man surrounded her and the pain was briefly replaced by...comfort. He laid her on her bed as Artemis jumped on the duvet and curled herself alongside Felicity's side.

"Oliver," Felicity struggled, looking up at his face, wanting to say so much more. To thank him for his thoughtfulness and his strength. To say she was sorry for his loss and his pain as well, but she didn't have the energy.

"Sleep now,"

Felicity tried to nod at him. Tried to stay awake, but could not. She fell into a deep, deep sleep...away from it all.


	8. Chapter 8

Oliver was so tired. It felt like he had been walking endlessly from room to room, through a nightmare, checking on those he loved. He tried to reach his father, but the library door was locked and his persistent knocks upon the aged wood went unanswered. Landon reassured him that his father was in there and was alive, just...not receiving.

Not receiving. Landon, the ever perfect, discreet and...gentle servant.

Landon had known his father even before Oliver's mother was brought to the manor as a new bride and in his own way, understood his father more than any of them ever would.

His mother, still slept….

And now, as a clock chimed from somewhere in the house, Oliver found himself sitting in Felicity's room as Lizzie set a tea service down on the table next to him.

"Please, Master Oliver. You must try to eat something. The cook has made your favorite biscuits," Oliver tilted his head in acknowledgment of her concern. She then left him alone in the room, societal decorum not thought of as grief consumed everyone.

Artemis lifted her head from where it rested on Felicity's arm, her gray fur and strong, lanky body keeping her mistress warm, at the scent of fresh lemon biscuits and Oliver was taken back to the very first time he had seen the animal.

 _ **"Oliver, look! There's five of them," Thomas had whispered in excitement as he and Oliver stood looking over the stable gate watching their groundskeeper's hunting bitch give birth to her litter. Oliver was to leave the next morning for school and the brothers had the afternoon to be just boys.**_

 _ **"The gray one, she's the runt. She'll need extra care, Thomas….Felicity would be good for her, would she not,"**_

 _ **"...Yes, I think she would," Thomas replied, hiding a knowing smile at his brother's thoughtfulness.**_

Thomas had written to tell Oliver that he had done what he had suggested. He'd given Felicity the puppy the day it was weaned from its mother and the two of them had become inseparable. At the memories of Thomas, each one seeming to cut deeper than the one before, Oliver reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled his letters out. He didn't know when to give Felicity or his mother, theirs. They were both so tender from the news that he didn't know if he would harm them more.

He would need to wake his mother soon. Make sure she took nourishment. To make sure she was alright. He tapped down the growing anger, that simmered below the never ending well of grief, at the thought of his "not receiving" father. Why wasn't he there for his wife? The mother of the child he had just lost. Oliver did not expect anything for himself, but for his mother…...

####

At the movement of Artemis on the bed Felicity woke to find Oliver sitting by her bedside. His familiar profile touched by candlelight and her bedroom was cast in long shadows and silence. She was so tempted to close her eyes and go back to the void of sleep. To tug tighter on the blanket of numbness that enveloped her so lovingly as she grieved, but Oliver...and the family, needed her. How long had she been asleep? Had he kept her company that whole time? She quietly watched him as he sat, unaware of her, in near stillness and took in the man. This man...she did not truly, know. But that wasn't completely correct. She did know that Oliver loved Tommy with his entire heart and that family, meant everything to him.

She allowed herself to look at him. To really look at him and not through the veil of the past or a child's eyes, but through the eyes of grown woman. A woman who knew loss and then acceptance, family and joy, and who was once again reminded how cruel life could be. She had not hurt like this since...she had lost her father and stepmother. Tommy had helped her see past that pain and fear, but she did not have him anymore.

Tommy.

Her heart weeped anew.

Oliver looked exhausted, shattered and...so very, lost. He was unshaven, his hair askew and his normally pristine cravat was untied and loose. The dark circles and lines of tension around his eyes made him even more...poignantly, beautiful. All his perceived hard edges...were softer and unconstrained. Her gaze made its way down the rumpled mess of his clothing and that's when she noticed the letters in his hand. Letters.

They looked like Tommy's letters. Everything reminded her of him.

"Hello," Her eyes flew up to meet Oliver's. His voice, deep and worn as if he had been screaming his pain from the rooftops. She wanted to scream. Scream her pain towards the heavens too.

"Hello," Neither of them moving. Their bodies heavy from their despair.

The silence between them no longer uncomfortable or needing to be filled. They had both lost Tommy. They both understood they would never be the same again. Oliver's presence was actually...a comfort to her.

"Would you like some tea?" He asked as he set his envelopes on the table and started to pour the still steaming liquid into a cup. At the mention of tea, Felicity's mouth watered, her body reminding her that she hadn't had anything to eat or drink...for a while. She gingerly sat up, her limbs weak and shaky, against the headboard of the bed and watched Oliver automatically place two and a half sugar cubes, not one, but two and a half and one dollop of milk into the warm liquid before handing it to her.

As she took it from him, the tea cup shook above its saucer and would have spilled if not for his hands engulfing hers. The heat from his fingers and that fact that he knew exactly how she took her tea, warmed her far faster than the drink ever would. He knew how she took her tea...

"Sorry, thank you," she said as he helped her take a sip and then sat back in his chair as her hands grew steady. The first sip of the perfectly prepared tea was a balm on her parched lips and broken heart.

"Lizzie, has properly reminded me that...you need, to keep your strength up. Please, take one," Oliver gently coaxed as he held the plate of biscuits towards her. A smile broke across her face as Artemis, the great lover of all biscuits and baked snacks, crawled closer and her nose sniffed the air. Oliver shared a small smile back and then...Felicity remembered...Tommy.

Her smile faded away and she could see...see and feel, that as she buried it away with her guilt, she had hurt Oliver. His vulnerability and pain so apparent. His face so open and expressive. There was so much pain, everywhere. She didn't want him to hurt anymore.

"Only if you join me," the softness of her voice and her invitation to share this moment seemed to soothe him. He nodded as he went about preparing his own cup of tea and they ate quietly, together. Artemis enjoying the biscuit Felicity shared with her.

"It's okay to smile, Felicity….I think, no, I know, that Thomas would want you to find happiness again. For us all, to see past his loss and remember him...with joy and love,"

"I know,..I...I just want to hear his voice and his laughter. To see him again,"

With every fiber of his being, Oliver wished that as well. He knew she was hanging on by pure strength of will and he still didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but at her words...he knew he had to give her Thomas' letter.

"I have something for you,"

"What is it?"

"It came yesterday. It's from Thomas,"

"From...Thomas?" Felicity took the letter and held it to her chest. Her fingers holding onto it with a fierceness she was unaware of. "I'll be alright, Oliver. Please,"

Oliver didn't want to leave her, but she had already forgotten he was there. He did her bidding.

Felicity curled into a ball on the bed as the door clicked shut. Oliver, lemon biscuits and moments of relief were pushed away as searing pain came flooding back. Her tenuous hold onto her fortitude...it splintered. It crumbled. And thoughts she had kept at bay took over and drove her to tears once more.

Did you feel pain, Tommy? Did they hurt you? Are you cold? Where are you, now? Please, don't have suffered. The image of limbs and bodies in the dirt and a field of blood was all she could see as Tommy's letter lay close to her heart.


	9. Chapter 9

Felicity lay across her bed and stroked the tattered and creased letter, its edges still forming a square, the way Tommy liked to fold them. Emotion surged through her, but she didn't have any more tears. They had fallen, all night, till she had none left. A new day was beginning and the yellows and pinks of its greeting was filtering through her windows.

Her fingers traced over the small smudges that mired the paper. Tommy's hands had touched it...and that connection gave her comfort. Did he send her yet another chapter of their adventure? They called his descriptions of places he was seeing for the first time and where Felicity would never go...their adventure. His way of keeping her from dwelling on her fears for his safety. She knew what he was doing...what he had been doing for her and she loved him even more for doing it. He was being Tommy. He was taking care of her. Shielding her. From the first moment they met, Tommy had welcomed her into his family and into his heart and she could not have wished for a better friend and brother. He was not her brother in blood, but he had been one in every other amazing way.

"What adventure have you sent me this time, Tommy," she sat up, unfolded the letter, and felt the warmth of the sun's rays as the room filled with them.

###

 _ **Waterloo April 1815**_

 _ **Dearest Felicity,**_

 _ **There has not been much beauty to tell you of. The rains have not stopped for days and if I were to never see mud again, I would be very, very happy. Many of us are terribly homesick. We all find commonality in that, as we share our memories of family and our wishes for tomorrow.**_

 _ **Tell me things of home.**_

 _ **Tell me about your days. I long to hear of the every day. What flowers are in bloom on your long walks? How is mother and her embroidery? And Oliver, what news do you have of him?**_

 _ **Oliver.**_

 _ **He has been on my mind a great deal lately, as have you.**_

 _ **As the men around me reminisce, whether it be of a sweetheart from home or just the visions of their homecomings, I feel, compelled, to share something with you and what you choose to take from it...I will leave up to you.**_

 _ **I know you do not see the same person in Oliver that I do, but permit me to tell you of a side of him, he would never dare reveal to you.**_

 _ **Sometimes, Felicity, people are far...more... than they allow others to see.**_

 _ **Oliver has...always, had a keen sense of what you like and what you, need. You have never known of his thoughtfulness, Felicity, but you have been surrounded by. So many of the things you hold dear...your beloved keepsake box, your abundant mix of books from astronomy to gothic mysteries, and even your very unique and special Artemis. It was, Oliver. With a gentle suggestion here or there to mother or I and...happiness was given. Why do you think this is so?**_

 _ **I tell you this now….for I need you to see him now. A man, who cares for you. The full extent of his care...well, I hope you both have the courage to find out.**_

 _ **I have meddled enough, have I not? Writing this letter to you has brightened my spirits as it always tends to do.**_

 _ **I must go now, my friend. Try not to worry for me.**_

 _ **I adore you, Felicity. Be happy.**_

 _ **Tommy**_

####

Felicity looked around her bedroom and in every corner of her sanctuary was the beloved items Tommy had mentioned. All of them. And something new. She stared at the tea cup by the side of her bed...he knew exactly how she took her tea...

"Oliver?" She whispered out loud, as her confusion and disbelief slowly unraveled, from years of her memories, till they...disappeared and were replaced with...a feeling of warmth, both beautiful and terrifying, that spread through her entire being until it reached, her heart. Their uncomfortableness around each other had always clouded how she saw him and now, there were, no more clouds. Just clarity.

Footsteps and hushed voices rushed past her door. Felicity got up from her bed and opened the door to see Lizzie and one other maid, towels and wash pans in hand, hastening down the hallway. Something was wrong.

She followed and watched them enter the Countess' bedroom. Her stomach turned as she walked in after them and heard Oliver's voice.

"There will be no blood letting,"

"But my Lord, you must allow me to do my job," replied the old family physician as he and Oliver stood off to the side. The Duchess, small and frail, lay in the middle of her huge bed and struggled through a fitful sleep. Tendrils of her hair matted against the heat of her feverish skin.

Felicity had had no idea this was happening. Dismay and then guilt and shame hammered at her. She should have known. Where was the Earl? There was only Oliver, bearing all this, alone. She looked back at him...and, saw him.

He had hastily changed clothing sometime in the night. He wore a loose white shirt over black breeches and riding boots. She saw his exhaustion, even more pronounced than the day before, and fear, yes, there was fear in his eyes that Felicity knew all too well. She had lost her father and stepmother to a horrible fever.

"While at University, I watched young, able bodied men weakened by leeches and I won't allow it done to my mother. Find another way,"

"Then all we can do is apply cool compresses to her head, behind her knees and nape. We will try to make her as comfortable as possible," replied the exasperated physician as he set his doctor's bag down on the bedside table then sat down and took hold of the Duchess' wrist and took her pulse rate. "Try to get her to take sustenance and then, time will tell,"

Felicity watched as Oliver's fingers subtly twisted the loose hem of his shirt as he stood listening to the doctors orders and a look of desperation, so fleeting she would not have seen it if she had not been staring, flashed across his face. He was hurting.

"Oliver, let me help. I'll have the cook make some broth for her," Felicity said as she instinctively reacted. She walked up to him and reached out and covered his fisted hand with hers. Stunned and surprised eyes met hers as his whole body froze at her unexpected presence and touch. What she had done, touching him and offering comfort and strength, was completely unexpected for her as well, and she started to step away.

"You shouldn't be here," was all he whispered as he let go of the hem of his shirt and opened his palm to envelope her hand and her comfort. His eyes, aflame with an emotion she didn't completely understand, but one that made her insides melt, her heart beat faster...and calmed her.

"Let me help you," she gently squeezed the fingers that encompassed hers; their hands now hidden under the folds of his shirt and away from prying eyes. Her entire world narrowed to this man in front of her and the rightness of the moment. She finally felt like she was, home.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This is a quick note to my reader **QuixoticHealer.** I wanted to say a huge Thank you! for your lovely reviews on all if not most of my multi-chapter fics and also venturing into my Sherlolly collection. Your FF message box is not turned on, so I thought I would send you a note this way. xo

#####

Oliver leaned back into his chair and watched as Felicity lay a cool cloth across his mother's brow. He rubbed his thumb and fingers together as the feeling of her hand in his lingered. He wished he could keep ahold of the sensation forever. The jolting contact and her support...had been like a lightning strike through the ink dark skies of a storm. It had been unexpected, exhilarating and beautifully remarkable. She was remarkable. And she shouldn't be here.

She needed to be resting. He did not know what had been in Thomas' letter to her or if she had read it, but he did know he couldn't bear it if she became ill. It would be beyond his limits to handle. He was running on near empty. He hadn't had any sleep except for an erratic hour here and there.

His mother's room was now peacefully quiet after the bustle of earlier activity. Felicity had taken control the minute Oliver had agreed to allow her to help. New bed linens had been brought in and changed out. His mother was given a sponge bath and her fever drenched nightgown replaced.

The immense weight of responsibilities, Oliver had been carrying since news had come of Thomas' death, felt lighter. His eyes were growing heavier as he struggled to stay awake. He had to stay awake in case he was needed. He had to…

"Rest now, Oliver. I'm here," was whispered as soft fingers brushed down his cheek. The touch was warm and comforting as he drifted off.

####

Oliver woke slightly disoriented. Where was he? His body was heavy and lethargic. He massaged a painful crick in his neck as he found Felicity sitting by his mother's bedside. And then he remembered.

"Felicity, forgive me, I feel asleep," Oliver said, with a voice low and gravelly from sleep as he stood up and walked towards her. His mother was still in a feverish state. Her body once again drenched in sweat and moving fitfully on the bed.

"There is nothing to forgive," Felicity replied as she turned to face him. A few strands of her blonde hair had come unraveled from her simple bun and lay along the delicate side of her neck. The urge to touch the soft tendrils was nearly overwhelming. Oliver knew he must look a fright in his exhaustion, but he had never seen Felicity, more beautiful. He looked down into her normally vibrant blue eyes to see them filled with worry.

"What is wrong?"

"...She isn't taking any broth, Oliver. Her restlessness is getting more frantic. For a while she was mumbling Tommy's name, but…"

"Yes?"

"Now, she's whispering your father's...Oliver, where is your father?"

Oliver's heart...broke. His mother needed his father and he wasn't there.

"I will bring him to her," surging anger and hurt making his words short and clipped before he walked out of the room and towards the library.

####

Landon stood at the bottom of the stairs as Oliver made his way down. The man was uncanny in his job as the perfect butler.

"Do you have the library key?" Oliver asked brusquely as Landon fell into step with him.

"Yes, my lord," Landon replied, as he handed Oliver the key. The same kind of worry was reflected in the faithful servant's eyes as it had in Felicity's.

"My father will be 'receiving' today," Oliver stated sarcastically as he unlocked and opened the library door. He was met with darkness and a strong odor of whiskey. "Bring me some candles, and Landon?"

"My lord?"

"Have a hot bath readied in my father's room. A very, hot bath,"

####

"Father?"

Light from the candelabra in Oliver's hand revealed a library filled with broken furniture, shattered glass on the floor and an untouched meal. Apparently Landon had been trying to take care of his lordship in so far as he was allowed.

The violence and neglect that was unleashed in the room was a surprise and yet, not one. Oliver had never seen his father display much emotion other than perhaps disappointment over the years, but the loss of a child...it warranted...it deserved...something, from the man.

"Father?" Oliver repeated as he stepped over debris and went further into the room.

"Leave me be!" was screamed from a tall wingback chair by the window. As Oliver walked closer he could make out the form of his father slumped in the chair with an empty liquor glass in his hand. His father looked horrible and the anger that had pushed Oliver into the room intensified.

His father squinted up at him and said with a heavy slur, "I killed him,"

"What are you talking about?"

"I killed him. I killed my...son,"

"Father, you're talking nonsense," Oliver replied impatiently. His father was obviously inebriated and didn't even recognize who he was talking to.

"...I could have...I should have given him the parsonage...he would be alive,"

Oliver didn't know what to say. Second sons were normally purchased a commission in the military or entered the church as their vocation.

"Thomas would not have chosen the church, Father,"

"What he wanted...it would not have mattered. If I had told him to...he would have. My sons follow my orders. They are good and honorable men…they do not question. They only do. Just as I did. Happiness and personal wants... do not matter. You study, till you can no longer see. You train and become perfect. You...seek and want acceptance from your father. Acknowledgement that you did well. That you were...loved...just once…"

Oliver could not believe his father's words. He was talking as if he knew what it was like...to be Oliver. Every resentment and longing that Oliver held towards his father...were ones, his father had held towards his own.

"I could have...saved him," his father whispered with a depth of loss, many times more powerful than a brother's. It was the agony of a parent who...loved.

Tears Oliver didn't know he had left...fell from his eyes. So many years of feeling he was not good enough...the loneliness of being set apart, as the heir...all the hurt; they fell with the tears and left behind, understanding.

His father...loved. He just didn't know how to show it.

####

Oliver set the candles on the nearby desk and kneeled down before his father's chair.

"Father, I need you now. We, need you now,"

"Wha?" the Earl said as he blinked through the haze of days of intoxication and grief.

"It's me, Oliver,"

"Oliver? Oh, Oliver...we've lost Thomas," his father whispered as he started to cry. "Thomas,"

"Shh, I know father. I need you to hear me," Oliver said as he cupped his father's face with his hands and met his eyes. He waited till the Earl's gaze focused on him before saying, "Mother needs you,"

"Moira? No, no, no, she must hate me. I killed Thomas," his father shook his head against Oliver's grip as his fear of facing his wife terrified him.

"Father, please listen to me, she's very, very sick,"

"Sick?"

"Please, she needs you. I...I need you," Oliver pleaded one more time as he waited and hoped that his words got through. He watched as so many emotions he never thought he'd see, fear, agony and then love, crossed his father's face.

The Earl gripped Oliver's shoulder and shook his head in agreement. Relief flooded through Oliver as his father then said, "Take me to her,"


	11. Chapter 11

Oliver had done all that he could. The passage of time and his mother's will to live were now in control. He had brought to her the person she had called out for. The one person she needed, the Earl.

His father seemed to accept, what Oliver had come to learn himself, that his own grief could only be tempered when shared with those who grieved just as much. Oliver wasn't sure you could ever truly heal, but you could live with it. The strength of their love for Thomas would see them through his loss. For Oliver knew, Thomas would be with him...in spirit, always.

Oliver made his way down the hallway towards his mother's room and slowed as he found Felicity standing in front of the door. He had come to relieve her watch over his mother, for a few hours, in the hopes that she could find some rest. She had changed into a simple mauve colored day dress and had her hair up in a low bun once again. Oliver missed her hair down when it was free to curl and sway with her every movement. She was much too still, now.

Felicity turned at his approach and raised her finger to her lips to silence him.

That made Oliver even more curious. He walked up behind her and saw his mother's door slightly ajar. Through the small opening came the low and calm voice of his father. There was no response from the sleeping Countess, but his father continued to speak to her as she continued to fight her illness. He whispered about memories of childhood antics, birthdays and beloved moments of Thomas, Oliver and Felicity. To hear him speak of those long ago times and of his children, warmed Oliver's heart. He never knew his father took notice, let alone understood their importance.

Felicity glanced over her shoulder at Oliver then and through the emotions of remembrance the two of them shared a communion of understanding. Caught up in the spell that his father's memories wove and Felicity's companionship, Oliver leaned against the wall, inches from her. Her familiar scent of wild flowers filled his lungs and a feeling of peace washed over him.

####

To be this close to Oliver was entirely inappropriate and she should have felt awkward and uncomfortable, but...Felicity did not. With his soothing presence behind her and the words of love Felicity heard through the door in front of her; the space in which she stood, felt surprisingly, safe. It felt good to not..feel sad or angry or scared. She felt safe. She felt like perhaps everything would one day be okay again. That she could survive this.

The heat emanating from Oliver's body, warmed her entire back as he rested against the wall. He was so tall and broad that she felt shielded from the world. She felt, protected. The soft puffs of his steady breaths ghosted across her neck like a...touch.

A deeper level of awareness of Oliver, stronger and more intense than anything she had ever felt for him before, swept over her entire body. Her dress suddenly felt too tight and her skin felt feverish. She had always found him attractive, but this was so much more. It was, intimate. She felt incredibly alive as every sound and movement he made, became acute. The brush of clothing across his body as he took each breath, the creaking of his leather boots as he adjusted his stance, and she swore she could even hear his fingers rubbing together as was his, way. The image of his fingers and the memory of what they felt like against her own made her blush. How could she be so aware of him when he wasn't even touching her?

####

Oliver felt the energy around him change. It danced and pulsed with a heavy charge of sexuality that he needed...to contain. His body stirred with Felicity's nearness. She was beautiful to his senses in so many ways. Her stature was entirely feminine, but her strength of spirit...it had no parallel. And he needed to control his reactions to her. He knew how he felt about her, but he didn't know what she felt...now. He had always been sure in his knowledge that she did not like him, but now, now it felt different.

He watched as a light blush spread across her skin and her breathing quickened. He could not look away as a captivating blush traveled down her neck and spread across the rise and fall of her breasts that were framed by the wide neckline of her dress. Current fashion displayed the natural form of a woman perfectly, corsets now ignored, and Felicity's was exquisite.

Was this awareness only in his mind? Could she feel it vibrating around them? If he reached out and touched her, would...

"Ro..bert?" was whispered from his mother's chamber and the world stopped. Both Oliver and Felicity looked at each other before rushing into the room. Both of them hopeful and so scared.

"Moira, it is Robert," his father answered, as he took hold of her hand where it rested on her bed. "Oliver, she's awake,"

"Thir..sty," his mother tried to open her eyes, but could not hold them open for any length of time. Oliver sat down on the other side of the bed and gently lifted her shoulders so she could rest against him. Felicity handed him a glass of water and he held it to his mother's chapped and peeling lips. The Countess took greedy sips and Oliver had to pull the glass away as she took too much too fast. He steadily allowed her to take liquid till she feel back to sleep.

"Her body is no longer hot. This is a good sign," Oliver said with relief as his father held his mother's hand tighter and Felicity smiled at him from the end of the bed. Oliver returned her smile and for the first time in a week, felt hope.

####

His mother stayed awake for longer periods of time and they were able to get her to take more liquids and broth. A sense of joy permeated the household as the cloud of grief that had taken over was slowly clearing. It was still a permanent part of the home, but they could now see through it. They could now see all the things that were still important. The people and relationships that were still alive. They may not be as vibrant as they once were, but they were still beautiful.

"Oliver, I'm here with your mother. You and Felicity go get some rest or something to eat,"

At Oliver's hesitation his father added, "She's going to be all right, son,"

Oliver nodded and swallowed the emotion that came fast and strong at his father's use of the term son. It resonated with him far more than it ever had. It now carried the love and respect of a father to his child, but it also magnified another significance; he was the only son left.

####

As Oliver closed the bedroom door and turned to find Felicity watching him; he felt the need to be outdoors. To feel the wind and the sun on his skin. He thought she probably felt the same way.

"Would you like to take a walk?"

"Um, yes, I would. I'll find my wrap and meet you downstairs,"

####

Oliver watched Felicity walk down the staircase as she drew her emerald green shawl around her shoulders. It was an old favorite that he had seen her wear many times and as she approached; he led her in the direction of the garden maze at the back of the house.

The summer day was mild and the initial sunshine made them both squint against its brightness. The scent of roses and a variety of flowers that his mother favored, scented the air around them. Birds chirped and bees buzzed. The normalcy and beauty of the garden made him almost forget the grief he carried.

"It is so lovely, Oliver," Felicity said as she trailed her hands along the tops of the rose bushes and closed her eyes as she soaked in the warmth of the afternoon.

"Yes. Yes, it is," he spoke of her as the sun kissed her skin and her enjoyment surrounded him. Her shawl skimmed along the gravel stones and he picked up the edge so she could pull it closer. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and he bent his head to hide the effect it had on him. She rarely smiled at him and each one she now bestowed on him was a gift. He felt the ease of the friendship she now offered and it meant the world to him.

He turned left at the blue lilies and then right at the pink foxgloves. They walked till they reached a secluded corner of the maze that had a bench and a sweeping view of the rolling hills. Oliver had never spent time in this spectacular alcove, but Felicity had. Over the years, he had only watched her and Thomas play there from his schoolroom window.

Felicity did not say anything as she sat down in the middle of the bench and looked across the familiar landscape.

Oliver joined her on the bench and as the wind gently blew the ends of her dress across his riding boots Felicity set her hand down on the bench beside his. She rested her pinky finger against his and at the touch he turned to look at her.

"Thank you," she whispered, not meeting his gaze. She stared off at the horizon and he took the opportunity to drink in the details of her beloved profile. He knew she was overwhelmed with emotions right now.

But what he did not know was that the 'thank you' was not just for knowing about this special place and understanding that it was exactly where she needed to be. But also for all the thoughtfulness and care she now knew he had secretly shown her. Oliver's heart continued to unfold before her and it was breathtaking and beautiful. His was so much more than she had ever known.

Felicity smiled and began to regale him with happy memories of when she and Tommy played here and spent hours and hours in this hidden corner of the maze. And Oliver listened to the woman who owned his heart, heal.


	12. Chapter 12

The sheer cream colored curtains, that framed the french doors of the manor's music room, billowed and floated on the fragrant summer breeze as Felicity sat at the piano with her hands folded neatly in her lap. The dark, charcoal gray dress she wore in mourning stood out against the pretty colors of the tapestry that hung on the nearby wall and the blonde wood of the pianoforte.

She stared down at the keys of the elegant instrument then took a deep breath before she placed her fingers in a familiar position and started to play. The stress she carried left her body as she was swept up in the beauty of the piece she played from memory. Days before, they had held a simple and private church service to say goodbye and celebrate Tommy. All the manor staff and servants had quietly paid their respects and the love for a young man and his family was shared. Felicity closed her eyes as the music took over and her fingers traveled across the keys.

She only thought about the next note, the simple count of the beat and the beauty that filled the room. Grief was forgotten and joy flowed through her. She lost track of time and after she pressed the last note of the sonata and it delicately resonated for a few seconds; she opened her eyes to find Oliver leaning against the piano watching her. His intense blue eyes reflecting the same pleasure she was feeling.

Ever since that day in the garden she felt...connected, to him. It was indescribable. Attraction, affection, love? She had no words to properly explain what she was feeling for him now, but it was...extraordinary. He was like an explosion of decadence on your tongue when you took a sip of hot chocolate and the exhilaration of riding a horse who raced across the valley. He was like a sparkle of sunlight through a raindrop on a rose petal and the comfort and solace of a warm hug. He made her feel special and cared for and...she wanted to do the same for him.

He was incredibly handsome today. Clean shaven with his hair recently trimmed and dressed in a midnight blue coat, black breeches and his perfectly tied cravat back in place. She was pleased to see him taking care of himself once again. The Countess was growing stronger each day and with her healing they all begun to move forward. The Earl spent most of his days with her, Oliver took over more responsibilities from his father and Felicity...she found the enthusiasm to play music again. It spoke to her on many levels. It always had. It affected her moods and could bring back a memory or be a part of making one.

"My apologies Felicity, I didn't mean to startle you. Hearing music in the house again...it's wonderful. You play, beautifully,"

"I woke up this morning and I found myself here. It is one of my favorite pieces to play," her hands once again folded in her lap, nervously clasped together as she secretly basked in his praise of her playing.

"Beethoven?"

"Yes, it's his most recent piece. Are you familiar with it?" Felicity asked, surprised and intrigued that he would recognize the composer when Tommy had always been easily bored with music and the many "performances" she forced him to sit through.

Oliver hesitated, a soft blush appearing on his face, before he shared with her, "I...I confess to attending all the concerts I could at university. Works from Beethoven, along with Bach and Mozart were performed at many of them,"

Felicity had never known of his appreciation for music. Everything new she learned about Oliver...enthralled her.

"I would have loved attending them with you," Felicity said, overcome with excitement for the amazing music he must have heard, before she realized how forward she sounded. But Oliver did not embarrass her. He surprised her by saying, "I would have liked that,"

Felicity warmed at his words as he shared a small, almost shy smile with her before walking over to her bench.

"May I?"

"Yes, of course,"

"What other treasures do you have here?" he asked as he sat down with her on the bench and looked between her and the sheets of music on the stand. His muscular thighs took up most of the space on the piano bench and Felicity tried to concentrate on what he was saying. Being so close to him, intoxicated her as his leg brushed against hers and his scent surrounded her. The distinctive mixture of leather, fresh pine and something more, that was uniquely, him, was warmly familiar and addictive.

"Play for me?" he asked softly. His voice lower than normal as if he was as affected by her as much as she was by him.

####

Oliver wanted to kiss her. What would she taste like? He wondered as he watched the tip of her tongue peek out as she nervously licked her lips. She looked at him with an awakening hunger that set his body on fire. He was amazed, enchanted and humbled by it. She was an innocent and she wanted...him. A man who was unworthy of her in every way.

"Mozart?" she asked breathlessly, reminding him of where and who they were. He nodded yes, not trusting himself to speak yet. Her hands shook slightly as she sifted through the sheets of music and found one to play. Her fingers, long and elegant, caressed the keys and brought another world to life. She transported him to a place where...he could fly.

Oliver's love of music had grown with hers over the years. He smiled at the memory of hearing the stops and stutters of her first lessons and then the pleasure of her growing accomplishment. Their classrooms had been located in the same wing of the house and as Oliver struggled with higher math, Felicity had struggled with tempo, dynamics and style. On the prettiest of days the piano could be heard throughout the manor. Oliver had seen more than one of the household staff stop and listen along with him.

Felicity had more than surpassed her music instructor's hopes.

He couldn't stop smiling at her. She was breathtaking.

She gifted him with a huge, stunning smile in return, one not encumbered with grief or politeness, but full of radiant joy and as she continued to play; Oliver knew he was ready. He was ready to show her his heart and if she would have him, he would be hers forever.


	13. Chapter 13

Felicity woke to the familiar tinkling noises of Lizzie carrying a full breakfast tray into her bedroom and the heavenly scent of flowers. Flowers?

"Morning Miss,"

Felicity blinked the sleep away and sat up against her headboard. "Morning Lizzie,"

Artemis stretched her limbs and yawned from her resting place on the room's oriental rug as she also greeted the new day and the tempting aromas.

As Lizzie carefully placed the tray across her lap, Felicity caught a glimpse of a small and delicate, but overflowing arrangement of light pink peonies on her bedside table. They were beautiful.

"Lizzie, did you bring me flowers?" Felicity asked, as she put on her spectacles to study the surprise better.

"No miss, it was Master Oliver," Lizzie replied with a wistfully, wistful whisper and a twinkle in her eye. "He asked Cook to make sure I brought them up to you first thing this morning,"

"Flowers, from Oliver?"

"If you don't mind me saying, Miss Felicity, it reminds me of my own Fitzwilliam when he started courting me. Flowers, each time he came to call,"

"Courting? Oh, Lizzie, Oliver isn't courting me..." Felicity's brow furrowed in disbelief and then slowly unfurled as a warmth of immense pleasure spread across her chest and touched the part of her heart that was still a lonely eleven year old girl, who had lost everything, and just wanted to belong to someone. Could Oliver be courting her?

"...Oh...my mistake, Miss... It's just a lovely gesture then," Lizzie went about tidying the room with a huge knowing grin. Cook had been so thrilled that morning as she quietly shared with Lizzie, because servants should never gossip, how good it was to see their Master Oliver beaming with an inner happiness, when he brought in the flowers, that comes with being enamored and being able to show it.

Felicity couldn't stop from reaching for a satiny petal of one of the peonies and gently rubbed it between her fingers. They were so splendid that she couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. Oliver wouldn't be courting her. He was just being thoughtful and kind and because of that…instead of waking up to the sadness of Tommy's loss, she was thinking of something lovely. She was thinking of Oliver.

#####

"Good Morning, dearest," the Countess said, in greeting as Felicity entered the morning room and sat down across from her on the settee. It was another brilliant summer day and the sunshine brought the vibrancy of the room's yellows and greens to life. Even though both women wore dark colors of mourning they both shared a lightness of spirit that had only come from rising from the ashes of sorrow to see they had a life worth living for. They both saw...the men in their lives who were worth living for.

"Morning, will the Earl be joining us?" Every morning for the last week, the Earl had been reading to the Countess in the morning room. Felicity couldn't help but admire the relationship that had been blossoming between the couple since the tragedy. It was heartening to see them begin to spend more time together and do things they enjoyed.

Before the Countess could respond, Artemis darted into the room with Landon chasing after her. The exasperated servant abruptly stopped as he entered the room and watched as Artemis sat down near Felicity and dropped to her paws and started to chew on something.

"Pardon me, Ladies,"

"Landon, what's happening?" the Countess asked as the beloved butler straightened his vest and tried to regain his composure. Felicity looked down at Artemis and understanding dawned on her.

"I fear Artemis has been to visit Cook this morning?" Felicity said as she looked at Landon apologetically and then back down to where Artemis was eating a lemon biscuit.

"Yes, Miss Felicity. Cook was preparing Master Oliver's lunch and Artemis stole a biscuit,"

"Felicity, you do need to try and curb her desserts….and dearest, you really should take advantage of this pretty day. Perhaps, you would like to take a ride with Landon, out to the dam and take Oliver his lunch?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I'd be more than happy too. I'll just go get my hat, Landon,"

#####

The ride to the dam site was a pleasant one, but as they got closer, Felicity grew more and more nervous. Oliver wasn't courting her, whispered across her mind as she reminded herself, again, that it was just flowers. But what if he was? She blushed from the extreme joy the thought gave her.

Tommy's last letter to her had been filled with the hope that she would someday allow herself to see how very special Oliver was and...she did.

What would she say to him when she saw him next? Did one act differently when being courted? What if he wasn't and she made a fool of herself? She was being silly. This was Oliver. Her...friend. She liked their new found friendship. The memory of music and smiles soothed her nerves.

Artemis sat panting in excitement between Felicity and Landon in the carriage. The incorrigible dog was currently making her apologies to him by licking his face. Landon loved her as much as Felicity and the licks were never discouraged or punished.

Oliver was leading the project of strengthening and renovating the old dam that protected the edge of the Starling estate as well as the river that flowed into the nearby town. The work had been progressing slowly and then stopped as they observed the family's loss. As the carriage came to a stop on a small hill that overlooked the group of men working in the river below, Felicity spotted Oliver.

A soft gasp of pleasure escaped her lips, and was thankfully lost in the wind, when she caught sight of him working in water up to his thighs and his shirt off. She unconsciously pushed her spectacles further up the bridge of her nose as she sat spellbound.

He was magnificent.

The long, sleek muscles of his back moved with the fluid strength needed to lift and stack heavy rocks as they diverted the river and mother nature. His hair was damp and darkened with sweat as he turned to take hold of the rock being passed to him. All the men had their shirts off or had clothing sweatily plastered to their bodies as the hard work progressed. Oliver must have heard them approach or caught sight of Landon getting out of the carriage, because he looked up the hill and met Felicity's hungry gaze with one that quickly became just as ravenous as hers. She swore she felt it like a touch across her skin.

Goodness, the front of his body was even more magnificent than the masculine line of his back. His chest was broad, golden brown and finely sculpted like a Roman god. A thin line of hair ran down it and begged you to follow its path to where it disappeared beneath his wet breeches.

Oh yes, goodness, Felicity thought as she looked her fill and then when she dared to meet his eyes again; he had a smile full of male pride that took her breath away. He bent down to scoop up a handful of water and splashed it across his face and head. His fingers smoothed back his hair as small droplets of water dripped down his neck and over his chiseled chest and abs.

Felicity watched him as he said something to the men and they all walked out of the water. Wet and soaking breeches that outlined every exquisite muscle of his hips and thighs were her complete and utter undoing. This was scandalous and she was riveted. Oliver picked up his shirt and to her tremendous disappointment pulled it on.

"Miss Felicity, would you like to join Master Oliver for lunch? Cook made enough for two," Landon said as he unloaded a picnic basket from the back of the carriage and Artemis ran around his legs.

"Yes, please, have lunch with me," Oliver requested as he walked up the hill then held out his hand to help her out of the carriage. That wickedly attractive and teasingly cocky grin of his was still on his face as Felicity looked at how his white shirt stuck to his wet body and forgot to respond.

"Felicity?" Oliver whispered as he dipped his head to catch her attention. Her eyes flew to his and her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Um, yes. Yes, I'd...be delighted to," she took hold of his offered hand and his river water dampened palm cooled her burning skin. Oliver was absolutely stunning. She had never seen him so relaxed before and it was sublime.


	14. Chapter 14

For as long as Oliver could remember, Felicity's ethereal beauty had beckoned him into her universe. She was all refined loveliness, just like the pink peonies he chose for her that morning.

No matter if she was angry at him or ignoring him as she was apt to do in the past...he had still basked in her light. He had been a far away and lonely planet and she was the sun whose laughter, intelligence and vivaciousness unknowingly warmed him.

She now...looked at him. She now...saw him...the man who wanted to cherish and love her. Beloved sapphire blue eyes, full of interest and desire, peered up at him through delicate spectacles as she took his hand and stepped down from the carriage. He swore the earth stopped moving as he felt the searing heat of her gloveless fingers. So much about her unexpected visit was inappropriate, but so very, exhilarating.

Seeing her on the hill, staring down at him like he was...everything, excited and instantly made his body and heart crave her even more. He couldn't have stopped his want, to tease and tantalize her with a wicked grin nor his hot blooded need to preen in front of the woman he loved. She made him want to play and be happy. To be himself. Finally.

Felicity's fingers trembled under his as he placed them on the crook of his arm and escorted her to the picnic blanket that Landon had thoughtfully placed under the shade of a secluded tulip tree. Oliver gently squeezed her hand in comfort and her light squeeze back made his spirits soar. The branches of the tulip tree, full of greenish-white flowers, swayed in the wind as Felicity sat down. Oliver reluctantly let go of her. His hand closed into a tight fist as he tried to hold onto what lingered of her as he settled down next to her. Wisps of her hair curled around her bonnet and across her face as the wind twirled and caressed what Oliver wish he could. His white shirt dried some in the summer breeze that swept over them and he was thankful that it covered his lower body. Her presence and her...interest, had a most immediate and pronounced effect on him.

The dark color of her mourning gown was severe against the pretty white lace of the blanket and the soothing emerald green blades of the grass, but it no longer tore at Oliver's heart to see. His grief from Thomas' loss had crystallized, with the help of his family's care, into a longing that would always be felt, but one that could be lived with. Thinking of Thomas now, only brought comforting memories of friendship and the purest love.

"Thank you, Landon. Cook is spoiling me," Oliver said with a quiet chuckle as the butler laid out a small feast of some of Oliver's favorite foods. Fresh strawberries and grapes with clotted cream, an assortment of cheeses, scones with orange marmalade and roasted beef sandwiches. But the first thing that caught Oliver's eye were the lemon biscuits that were neatly wrapped in a cloth that was precariously close to where Artemis lay. The dog's tail casually thumped as her eyes followed Oliver's hands. The thumping increased as he picked up the bundle and unfolded the cloth to display, still warm delights.

"That she is, Master Oliver," Landon replied with a smile as he set down a container of apple cider, two glasses and then quietly left them to the privacy of the deserted side of the hill; away from the sounds and eyes of the workers on the other side enjoying their own lunch break.

"Artemis, no," Felicity said in low, commanding voice trying to prevent another mishap. "She's already on Cook's bad side this morning. I'm pleased to see there are still biscuits left for you, Oliver,"

"She has always had impeccable taste," Oliver teasingly said of Artemis as he offered Felicity a lemon biscuit before sliding a decadent morsel into his mouth. His eyes closed as he savored the explosion of lemon and the tiniest hint of honey on his tongue.

"Cook's kitchen is Artemis' nirvana. I fear I will have to put her on a strict regiment of pudding-less meals. She will undoubtedly detest me for doing so, but she needs to understand that she is simply not allowed to take what she wants,"

Oliver instantly stilled at the touch of fingers gently cupping his face and a thumb sliding across his lips as Felicity's loving tones surrounded him. She continued to talk about how to curb Artemis' compulsions of unfettered and wanton enjoyment as he slowly opened his eyes, sensual heat flaring across his hardened body, to watch her leaning towards him casually brushing crumbs from his mouth before she realized what she was doing.

At his stillness, her thumb paused, her words ceased and her fingers began to slide down his cheek. He quickly placed his hand over hers as she raised her wide, embarrassed, and stunned gaze to watch him turn his face into the palm of her hand and kiss it.

A slow, seductive smile curled across his lips and he pressed it softly into her skin. He could feel her trembling again as he watched her pupils dilate and her soft lips part in a silent sigh.

"Thank you for my flowers," she whispered as her thumb brushed across his lips once again. "They are beautiful,"

"You are welcome,"

"Lizzie thinks you're courting me," her cheeks lightly turning pink as she blurted out what had been weighing on her heart all morning. At his silence she anxiously continued,…"I told her you were not. I believe, you are being kind and thoughtful and,"

"Yes,"

She swallowed nervously, "Yes?...You're just being kind and thoughtful. I knew th,"

"Yes, I'm courting you, Felicity...I think I have been courting you, in my own way, for a long time now," Oliver replied, as he slowly took hold of the hand that still cupped his face, lacing his fingers with hers before placing their joined hands on his lap.

"My keepsake box...my books, Artemis," she replied breathlessly, as her whole body flushed with joy and love.

A look of surprise and then a radiant smile crossed Oliver's face before he replied, "How did you know?"

"Tommy. He shared that with me in his last letter. I am sorry, that I never saw…you,"

"I don't...think, we were ready to see each other before now. My apologies, Felicity, for my youthful blundering. I know I have hurt you and made you feel uncomfortable. It is unforgivable. I was...envious of your connection to Thomas. From the first day you came to us….I am not him. I will never be as gregarious or free of spirit as Thomas was, but I...love you. I will adore you till my last breath. If you will have me,"

"Oh, Oliver,...yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes," Felicity replied, with tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips that begged to be kissed. Begged to be ravished.

"Yes?" he asked again, not trusting what he heard. As she excitedly nodded yes, he slid their joined hands around his waist, their clasped fingers now resting on the small of his back and as her face drew closer; he leaned down closing the distance.

His lips hovered inches from hers, their breaths and desires mingling, before he asked, "Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife. My other half. Mine?"

######

"Yes," she whispered before his mouth gently touched hers. An intense jolt of pleasure speared through her entire body as Oliver took her lips the way he wanted to take her. Sure, softly, and completely. She moaned as he tenderly pulled her lower lip into his mouth and at the sound, he slipped his tongue inside. He tasted so good. Lemon, honey and man.

The world melted away as she only felt him. As she only tasted him. As he became hers.

Instinct as old as time and her innate needs took over. She took what she wanted. HIM. She kissed him back. Her tongue tentatively met his and they slid sensually together as her passion was unleashed. She was consumed by him. She couldn't get close enough.

"Felicity," Oliver growled as he pulled back to look down at her passion filled eyes before he took her mouth again. This time there was no tenderness, just fevered need.

It was glorious. He was delicious and decadent and she could feel him lose control too. She gloried in her awakened sensuality and in the knowledge that she could do this to him. That she could effect him so.

He swept her into a plane of otherworldliness. He made her feel out of control, hungry and wanted. She felt loved and seconds, became beautiful eternity.

Artemis squirmed in between them as she tried to join in on the fun. At the interruption, Oliver released her lips, but didn't release her hand. Felicity laughed at her joy of the moment and Artemis' imperfect timing.

Oliver joined her. His laughter, that was deeply masculine, heartfelt and something she had never heard before, made her throb with awareness and anticipation. This beautiful man was hers.

She squeezed the fingers that still held hers and said, "I love you, Oliver,"


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:**Hello, chapter 16 will be the last chapter my darlings and I will definitely post it before Christmas. Thank you all for your excitement and support for this story****

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The hall to his father's library never looked so long. Each step through the late afternoon shadows took Oliver closer to a meeting that he was both excited and nervous about. He knew exactly what he would say, but he didn't know how his father would react. So many emotions were running through Oliver's veins that he didn't know if he could contain them. He had never felt so, happy. The memory of Felicity telling him she loved him made him feel that he could conquer the world. He had reluctantly left her to seek out his father and his blessings and all he wanted to do was go back to her. To take her in his arms again and never let her go.

Oliver knocked on the door and at his father's acknowledgment he entered. What a difference the state of the room was in from the last time he had been there. Soft, warm sunlight filtered in through the tall french doors and the broken pieces of furniture and his father's heart no longer littered the floor. There was a peacefulness that immediately enveloped Oliver and he knew it came from the changed man who sat behind the large mahogany desk. His father was still learning what real love was supposed to be like. How it was meant to be unconditional, respectful and gracious.

"Son, how is the dam project?" his father put down a letter of correspondence he had been perusing, took off his reading spectacles, and gave Oliver his full attention. That was something Oliver had been slowly getting used to. Even though he had always had his father's full attention, their family heritage and legacy drilled into him from the day he could walk,...now, his father's attention was on his son. Not the legacy.

"It's proceeding well. If you have a moment,...I have something I want to discuss with you,"

"Is something wrong? You look...you look, well," his father said, his initial concern turning into a small smile of knowing as he stood up and walked over to where Oliver stood. "Did something happen...perchance, during lunch?"

It took a second before his father's words sank in and once they did, Oliver started laughing. He had never laughed so much then the last few hours. It was still foreign to his own ears, but his soul was overflowing with joy. It was full of Felicity's love and love for her.

"Father, does everyone know?"

"By now, yes," he extended his hand out in congratulations and Oliver clasped and shook it.

"I was not sure if you would be accepting of our decision to be married,"

His father nodded before his expression turned serious. "Forgive me, Oliver. I have not been much of a father, but I wish to be one now. I only wish Thomas could be here so I could try to be one to him as well. Our family, has always held our heritage and traditions above all else and...now, I would like to allow love into that mix. Your mother has shown me that it is possible. She's given me a second chance. If Felicity will have you...then, I wish you both happy."

"Thank you, Father,"

"Let's go find your mother. I know she's been waiting for this day for some time now,"

####

A thousand thoughts and emotions were running through Felicity's mind. She was so happy. Giddy with it, but scared. What if...the Earl and the Countess...did not approve? Oliver had told her not to worry. He had taken her in his arms and reassured her that...she, was everything he wanted. Would that be enough?

The feel of his body against hers, the scent of flowers in the air, the sound of the wind through the trees and the warmth of the sun on her skin...everything was now more acute. She even swore she could still taste Oliver as she licked her lips. She touched them and they felt normal, but how could they be, when everything about her was different? He loved her.

A gentle knock on her door had Felicity turning from the window to see a smiling, beaming Countess enter and hold out her arms to her.

All the insecurity, of not being good enough or acceptable for their first born child and heir, went away as Felicity flew across the room and into the biggest, warmest hug.

"Everything...is alright?" Felicity asked as she gently pulled back, but staying within the loving circle.

"Yes, I've just come from the Earl and Oliver...and my world is complete and joyful once again. It hasn't been since Thomas' passing, but now, now it is. Oh my beautiful child, I am so happy for you and for Oliver. Love sometimes finds us when we are least expecting it...and sometimes, when we had no hope of being found."

Felicity hugged her once again as both women fully felt how fortunate they were to have found partners to walk through life's ups and downs, together.

"Sit with me, child and tell me what you're feeling," the Countess said as they sat down on the window seat and she held onto Felicity's hand.

"I...I'm a bit scared. I'm a little overwhelmed...but most importantly, I'm incredibly happy. I didn't think I could be this happy," Felicity said as the excitement and joy she'd been holding in came pouring out. "Oliver makes me feel all of those things...is love always like this?"

The Countess hesitated for just a moment before responding, "If you had asked me this a year ago, I would have told you...I did not know. But, I know now and no, it isn't always as wonderful as this. Love, it is a gift,"

"I will treasure it, always,"

"I know you will dearest. And I know my son. He will treasure yours. What are your thoughts on the wedding?"

"If you and the Earl are amenable to it, and it pleases you, Oliver and I would like to have a small ceremony, here on the estate, during Winter Solstice,"

The month of December would mark the first month the entire family would be out of mourning and she and Oliver wished to be respectful of that. Felicity could tell the Countess understood and appreciated that.

"I think Winter solstice will be a perfect time to celebrate,"

####

Oliver and the horse he sat upon braced themselves, against the cold wind from the North, as they looked over the snow blanketed valley below. The old bare tree that stood as a sentry behind Oliver offered very little shelter from the elements, but Oliver felt nothing...except serenity. The last time he had ridden up here, Thomas had been with him and had promised to write. He had kept that oath. He just hadn't come home. An ache still resonated in Oliver's heart, but now it was comforted by the love that surrounded it.

"She said yes, Thomas. She said, yes," Oliver whispered in the wind as he touched the ring that lay snuggled safely in his coat pocket. His mother had given Oliver her mother's ring as a token of love to him and to Felicity. The simple and elegant channel band held three embedded emerald stones and he knew Felicity would love it.

He had always had Thomas' blessing and today, he could feel it in every fiber of his soul.

Oliver breathed in the chilled winter air and smiled. The last few months had been full of afternoon picnics, leisurely walks, evenings full of music and moments of laughter sprinkled in between luscious kisses and wondrous touches. Their months of courtship had been a lesson in self restraint for both he and Felicity, but tonight, they would no longer have to hold back. He would become Felicity's in every sense of the word. He pulled his horse in the direction of manor and rode toward the woman he loved.

####

The Earl walked Felicity down the aisle of the beautifully decorated chapel at Nocking Point and the only thing Oliver could see, was her. She was beautiful. Her matching cream colored, long sleeved wedding gown and coat, with intricate flowers embossed on its high collar and all along its hem, stood out against the vibrant green boughs of holly and their crimson berries that were strung along the rows of dark wooden pews. The delicate lace of her long veil cascaded down her back from where it was held with two combs of white pearls that lay within the upswept golden strands of her chignon.

Winter sunshine glinted off and through the stained glass windows that lined the wall behind the altar and filled the room with its light. Not one corner of the church held a shadow as the glorious moments of the ceremony wove themselves into the tapestry of Oliver and Felicity's life.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Here is last chapter my friends. I can't thank you all enough for the wonderful words of love and encouragement you sent me. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you. xo, Mel

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Felicity took one final look at herself in the mirror, taking in details of the white silk nightgown that molded itself against the curves of her body and the glints of amber that shimmered throughout the loose waves of her hair, before taking her spectacles off and setting them on the top of her vanity.

Her things were moved into Oliver's master suite that morning and tonight had been the first time she had ever seen his bedroom chamber. It was decorated in a peaceful palette of beige, off-white and dark cherry wood. Oliver continued to surprise her in the most delightful of ways.

Lizzie had placed many of Felicity's beloved things, except Artemis who was secreted away to spend the night in the kitchen, amongst Oliver's and Felicity felt instantly at home. The glow and warmth from the crackling fire and lit candles painted the room in golden splendor, making it feel even more private and special, as snow silently fell in whimsical swirls outside.

She felt anxious, small goosebumps spread along her arms despite the perfect temperature of the fire, until there was a soft knock and she caught movement in the mirror as Oliver entered the room. Their eyes met in the looking glass and at his gentle smile Felicity's nerves disappeared and in its place came excitement and a hunger for him, her husband. Her eyes drank in every inch of his form like a desert during a rare rainfall.

His hair was slightly damp from his bath and his robe lay open, revealing a sculpted, bare chest and long powerful legs clothed in dark pants, as he strode towards her. He had been incredibly handsome in his wedding attire of black breeches and forest green jacket, but now, he was simply stunning. She grew instantly warm as she stood at his approach and walked into his arms.

The feel of his body, hard, cut and muscular, flush against hers was visceral and delicious on so many levels. She melted against him with a sigh as his hands held her close. His cheek rubbed against her head and then slid down along the side of her face.

"I love your hair down like this. You take my breath away, Felicity," Oliver whispered against her ear as one of his hands trailed up along the silk of her gown and under the heavy curtain of her hair to cup the back of her neck. "You're so beautiful. I sometimes don't know how my heart bears it."

The emotion in his voice and the feel of coiled strength in the hands that embraced her, set her on fire.

"As are you," she whispered back with awe and sincerity. Felicity flushed red at the sound of her own need and the look in his eyes. She wasn't the only one starved for the taste and feel of the other. She knew Oliver had been controlling his passions around her as they slowly explored each other over the last few months with slow, deep kisses and tantalizing, but tender caresses. Her own ardor had simmered and impatiently waited to be set free. She loved this man with all her heart and with that came a want and a need she had never felt with anyone else.

Her hands had a mind of their own as they slipped inside his robe. She spread her hands over his chest, like she had dreamed about since that glorious day at the dam, and lovingly caressed his bare skin for the first time. He shivered and moaned at her touch and she stilled.

"Did I hurt you?"

Oliver nervously swallowed, "No, I...I just, enjoyed your touch,"

"I enjoy your touch, too," Felicity admitted in a low whisper as her hands eagerly went back to what they wanted and moved over his deliciously warm skin and explored everywhere they could reach.

His breath quickened and his arms tightened on her as he allowed her free rein. It was intoxicating for her to know she could affect him so. This strong, quiet man...trembled for her. His reaction to her touches emboldened her and her fingers ventured lower over chiseled abs and then lower still. She touched the part of him that was growing in size and hardness against her stomach.

"Felicity," he moaned raggedly, as the hand on her neck pulled her head back and he kissed her. She opened instantly for him and the flavor of midnight and the familiar decadence of him exploded on her tongue. He leaned down, slipped his other arm under her buttocks, and picked her up. As her elbows rested high on his chest and her body melted into his, she sighed with pleasure into his mouth. Her hair slid down around his face and over his shoulders as he carried her towards the bed.

He laid her down gently and then, as she stared up at him in hunger, he took off his robe and then his breeches. Everything about him was beautiful and hard and big.

Mine, whispered through her mind. He was perfect and he was hers.

He climbed on the bed and lay down beside her. She moved towards him and he reached out to tenderly push a wayward strand of hair from her face. "Felicity, there will be some pain my love, but this will by the last time I will ever cause you any. I swear it,"

She nodded back nervously and he leaned down and kissed her. Soft pillowy lips and an enticing tongue made all else fade away, leaving only desire. Her body grew hot, heavy and aroused. Her leg slid up along his calf and the feel of her silk gown sliding against the hardness of his muscles was luxurious and sensual.

His hand cupped her ass and slowly traveled down the back of her thigh where it slipped under the hem of her nightgown and met the softness of her skin. She gasped at the tactile pleasure of his work calloused hand and all her senses followed the path of his palm as it journeyed up the sensuous curves and valleys of her body. Warm air from the fire licked across her body as her gown followed the same path and Oliver's gaze slid over what he exposed.

"My dreams weren't even close," he said in wonder, as he ran the backs of the fingers of one hand over her nearest curve, before urging her shoulders up and pulling her gown over her head and completely off. Her hair fanned out across the bedsheets and she looked and felt like an angel sent to earth to tempt and conquer.

She couldn't look away, mesmerized by the ravenous need on his face, as she watched him cup the heavy swell of her breast before he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked on it.

"Ohh," she gasped as molten heat enveloped her. It felt...so good. Each draw of his mouth felt like an erotic pull on a string that was attached to her very center.

She felt a wetness seep between her legs as he tenderly suckled on her like she was everything he ever craved. She moaned and her back arched at the growing pleasure. She grasped his head as she craved more of what he was giving her. Her fingers speared through the thickness of his hair as she pulled him closer.

He looked up at her as his lips let go of her breast and his fingers trailed down her chest to the flatness of her stomach and the flare of her hip; leaving fire in their wake. His eyes asked if she dared to feel and want more….

"Allow me, please," he asked, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through her body, before he slowly spread her legs as his hand slid up her inner thigh. His lips returned to her other breast as his finger found her heated core and he begun to slowly tease her sensitive, virginal flesh. He erotically rubbed and stroked it till absolute divine pleasure bloomed and her body grew wetter. So very wet and hungry for him. The impulse to move against his finger blossomed and she gave in. Her hips lifted and moved in tandem with her need, till she felt like she was close. So close to...something. She wanted, no needed...more, something more.

"Oliver?"

At her plea, his finger slid lower and then inside her. She whimpered at the intrusion. He stroked her, deeply, in and out, slow and easy, over the slippery folds, till her hips lifted once again and chased the pleasure. So much pleasure, everywhere.

"Please," she didn't know exactly what she was asking for, but she knew Oliver would.

He released her nipple with a wet, succulent pop and lifted himself above her. His eyes, a blue full of heat, hotter than the inferno he had just unleashed in her. He bent his head and placed wet kisses on the quivering skin of her abdomen. He settled his shoulders within the cradle of her hips, looked up at her, and whispered, "Trust me?"

Yes, she trusted him. Why did he ask? She nodded yes, because she couldn't form any words.

He dipped his head and he kissed her...there, where his finger had been. She was stunned! Did people really do such things? He gently pushed her thighs apart again from where they now clasped him tightly in surprise.

Her head fell back as she felt his tongue lick her feminine folds. Once. Slow. And then again. And again. It was, exquisite. His hands slid under her bottom, squeezing and kneading the smooth curves, as he held her still while his tongue stroked and delved into her.

Sensation after sensation built up and up, till all reason disintegrated and she exploded in a startling crescendo. She cried out at the immense pleasure and her body shook with lingering gratification. His mouth stayed on her till she lay exhausted on the bed.

He kissed one thigh then the other, before he rose to his knees, and lined up his throbbing member with the opening of her body; that even now begun to quiver with need again.

"Forgive me, love," he said, his gaze and voice full of concern and passion, as he slowly pushed into her. She felt the pressure of his entry as he leaned over to take her mouth in a drugging kiss and surged into her. At her scream, he froze above her, his arms braced near her head as he allowed her to grow accustomed to his invasion. To the feel and girth of him. To being one with another. "Forgive me,"

Her entire world centered on where he entered her. The place where they melted against each other and where she swore she could feel his heartbeat syncing with hers. Pulsing and alive.

As the initial pain and adrenaline eased she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed the lips that still held hers, and whispered, "Forgiven,"

She could taste her own essence on his lips and a blush spread across her cheeks as the carnality of it struck her. Oliver had kissed and tasted her in her most private of places and the level of intimacy of what they were doing, what they were sharing, made her even more emotional. Making love was such a beautiful part of showing and being shown love. It was...all thought vanished, as Oliver begun to move.

He groaned her name and she didn't think she had ever heard it sound more beautiful. He pressed deeper and as he slowly pulled out and then pushed back in again, the pleasure returned. With each stroke of his hard length, lust pumped heavy and fierce through her veins like liquid wildfire.

Her hands ran down the slope of his back to the sexy curve of his backside. It was plump and luscious and as his hips thrust in and out of her; she grabbed a hold of it and her fingers dug in. It felt so good. He felt good.

She moaned into his mouth and his thrusts became stronger and more intense; her nails leaving small marks on him from her building passion. It surged through her on a wave of ecstasy.

He liked that. He liked her passion and as it reached a point of utter fulfillment her body clenched tightly around him. They both groaned as he followed her to completion and then his hips slowed and his full weight came to rest on her

They lay sated and overcome with emotions. Felicity could hardly keep her eyes open as Oliver withdrew and gathered her into his arms as he lay back on the bed.

"I love you," she mumbled against his chest as she curled up against him. This closeness and connection was everything she could have hoped for. Love had come to her, softly and unexpected, but no less powerfully. She was so grateful. She was thankful. She was happy.

Before falling into a deep sleep, she felt soft kisses on her forehead and words, she would hear for the rest of her life, whispered across her skin. "I love you."


End file.
